


Daddy's Little Girl

by San121



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Gen, Pre-Chapter 9, We need them good feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 06:46:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20238487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/San121/pseuds/San121
Summary: A few times Jeralt and Byleth had soft, kind father-daughter interactions.





	Daddy's Little Girl

**Author's Note:**

> There is a vague mention of Byleth/ House Leader, so image which Lord you like. Also, the year jumps are like this:  
1) Three or so months  
2) Three-Four years old  
3) Nine-Eleven years old  
4) Twenty-Twenty two years old

Byleth sleeps peacefully against Jeralt’s chest as he rides away from the Monastery. He supposes there is something good to come out of his daughter’s strangeness, directing his horse further into the forest that surrounds Garreg-Mach. Glancing down, he sees his daughter’s eyes open and blink up at him, a little fuzzy as though she can’t quite focus them yet. Even though her blank expression still worries him, Jeralt smiles down at her. His eyebrows rise up when her eyes seem to light up at his smile, small hands reaching out of her swaddled blanket. Chuckling, he raises his eyes back to the forest in front of him, his heart feeling lighter at the fact that his daughter can _feel_ even if she can’t show it on her face.

* * *

They arrive at a village, Byleth sitting calmly in front of Jeralt as the rest of their mercenary band rides beside them. In the four years that have passed, he’s learned so much about his daughter despite her lack of heartbeat and expressions.

“We’re here, kid,” he tells her, looking down. She tilts her head back to look up at him, blinking twice quickly. _I know_, is what it means. Jeralt chuckles, letting go of the reign to ruffle her hair. The huffing sigh that escapes Byleth is her laugh, her small hands reaching up to catch ahold of his larger one.

“Just don’t want you running off into trouble again,” he gently scolds, returning his hand to the reign. Byleth blinks once before looking down, her thumb lightly scratching at the inside of her index finger. A move she does when either ashamed or unsure. Jeralt sighs, pulling her closer to his chest.

“I just want you to be safe,” he sighs, leaning down enough to press a kiss to her wild teal hair. She nods against his mouth. He finally stops the horse they ride, sliding off first before lifting Byleth off and setting her on the ground.

“Now, if you do wander off, stay in the village. You have your picture of me, right?” Jeralt checks. Byleth nods, pulling out the paper that they got one of their more artistically inclined companions to draw for them. He ruffles her hair again and shoos her off, watching as she wanders off into the village. Sighing and shaking his head fondly, he turns to the rest of his group for planning and finding the person who hired them. They find the man who hired them, listening to the information they need to know for their job. It takes a while for them to finish the job, but once it’s done, Jeralt wanders around the village, looking for that all familiar head of dark teal hair. A solid object strikes his shin, startling him to look down. Looking back up at him are an achingly familiar pair of blue eyes.

“Hey there, kiddo,” he huffs, reaching down the ruffle her hair. Byleth looks up at him with bright, happy eyes before she opens her mouth.

“Papa,” she says quietly, looking up at him like he’s some holy figure. Honestly, that’s how he feels right now, blessed with not only his daughter’s first word, but also being her first word. He sniffs, crouching down and pulling her into a hug.

“Papa?” she asks, worry bleeding through her usual monotone. Jeralt pulls back, grinning down at his little girl through his tears.

“Don’t worry, kid. These are happy tears,” he assures her. Her eyes flick in understanding, before slowly raising her hands to him, asking for another hug. A request Jeralt gladly fulfills.

* * *

“Papa,” Byleth whispers, shaking Jeralt awake. Blinking groggily, Jeralt pushes himself up to squint out the window. The moon is just past it’s zenith, telling him that he has a few hours before they need to get up and move (the Knights of Serios are coming to this village to arrest the bandits that Jeralt and the others rounded up. He didn’t want to get caught, but he also wanted to stay to celebrate Byleth’s first successful mission with them).

“What are you doing here, kiddo?” he asks around a yawn. His daughter looks down at the ground, a frown on her young face, her hands palms up. Jeralt sees the faint trembles in her hands, which were covered in blood only a few ho—_oh_.

“C’mere, kid,” he coaxes, lifting his blanket enough for her to crawl into bed beside him. She curls up against him, her head resting against his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“Better?” he asks. Byleth nods against his chest, her small hands curling into his sleepshirt. Jeralt sighs, rubbing her back and allowing himself to drift back to sleep.

* * *

It’s been years since he’s had trouble reading his daughter, but ever since Byleth became a teacher and the noble-house-leader-brat started interacting with her, she’s been closed off more often than not. Which makes it as something of a surprise when she appeared in his room, face blank, but her eyes alight with questions and worries and things that make Jeralt want to hunt down the brat and threaten them to being good to his child. However, instead of going to do that, he motions for her to enter and close the door. He waits for the sound of the lock to click into place before he sits down on his bed, patting the spot beside him. She sits down before laying down, her head resting on his lap.

“You got a crush, huh? That’s gotta be annoying,” Jeralt chuckles, smiling when she lightly slaps his knee, obviously pouting at the door.

“Welp, don’t let it affect your work and you’ll be fine,” he assures her. Byleth pauses, before turning her head enough to look up at him, her eyes asking him everything she can’t say.

“Don’t give me that ‘unworthy’ bullshit, Byleth. If one of you is unworthy, it’s that little noble brat,” he huffs, tugging her hair lightly. She blinks before huffing, her way of disagreeing while acknowledging his point. Jeralt chuckles, combing his fingers through her hair, letting the soothing motion lull his daughter into a doze. Once sure she’s getting sleep she desperately needs, Jeralt turns back to his own work, frowning and squinting at Alois’ horrible handwriting on the report.


End file.
